C'est La Vie
by ILuvSnuffles805
Summary: Things get out of hand when the Pie Holers' Parisian vacation becomes a murder investigation. And that's just the beginning of the unexpected surprises that lay ahead for the pie maker, who is finally forced to confront a ghost from his past. Post-Series.
1. Prologue

_A/N: Hello all! Welcome to my first-ever Pushing Daisies fanfic! I know the show has been cancelled for awhile, but it's still my favorite… I love it! I've been toying around with this idea for a bit and finally decided to do something with it._

_Enjoy!_

_**PROLOGUE**_

Graduation day at the Longborough School for Boys was a highly celebrated and joyous affair… for most students.

Young Ned… Well, he wasn't so young anymore. He was seventeen years, twelve weeks, three days, nine hours, and fifty-three minutes old when he joined his fellow graduates on the tiny stage of the school's auditorium, waiting to, at long last, receive his diploma. As the school's headmaster droned endlessly on about "hard work" and "perseverance", Ned's eyes scanned the sea of faces in the crowd, subconsciously trying to quell the fervent hopes that were springing up inside of him.

It had been seven years, thirty weeks, three days, thirteen hours, and nineteen minutes since his father had deposited him at the school's doorstep, leaving him with nothing but a simple promise – a promise that Ned had been desperately clinging to for all these years: "I'll be back".

Mere weeks after he was abandoned, young Ned received the only message that his father had ever sent him during his entire stay at the Longborough School – a pre-printed postcard announcing that his father had moved. Sneaking away one Halloween night, young Ned's heart was crushed to find that his father had a brand-new family… one that did not include Ned.

From that day forward, Ned had tried desperately to never again even _think_ of his father, or any of the other painful memories that still lingered from his childhood. And though he did his best to fulfill the promise he had made to himself, Ned often did much more than think – he imagined. He imagined that one morning he would wake up to find that the past several years of his life had been a mere dream – that his father had never left him and his mother, that his mother had never died, that Digby had never been hit by that truck, that he still lived next door to the girl named Chuck, that he had never been cursed with his horrible power, and, above all, that his father truly loved him.

And so, ashamed as he was to admit it, Ned found himself, once again, imagining. As he looked out into the audience and saw the joy and pride on each parent's face, he imagined that there was another face among them – perhaps slightly more lined or weary than he remembered, but a face he was sure he would recognize anywhere. Tomorrow, Ned would pack up his things and leave the Longborough School for good – this was his father's last chance to fulfill his promise.

But as Ned finally walked across the stage to shake the headmaster's hand and receive his diploma, he was met with polite applause from the audience – no loud whooping or cheering that stood out among the rest, no cries of "Way to go!" or "That's my boy!" that he had heard as many of his classmates took this same walk.

Blankly glancing down at the rolled paper in his hand, Ned realized that this meant his stay at the school he hated so much had officially come to an end. But he couldn't even bring himself to smile. Because no matter where Ned went from here, he would still be just as alone and abandoned as he had been for the past eight years.

As the other students rushed off the stage to join their smiling parents, Ned took one last fleeting, hopeful glance at the crowd before trudging wearily back to his room to start packing. He found Digby sitting beside his bed, wagging his tail happily as his master entered.

"At least I've got you, Digby." Ned smiled half-heartedly as he spoke, wishing he could give his furry best friend a scratch behind the ears. _Sure, I've got Digby…_ he thought sadly. _But is that really enough?_

Ned sighed heavily, suddenly wishing he had someone there that could give him some sort of physical affection… a hug, a handshake, even a pat on the back. Some sign that someone, _anyone _cared about him.

But his mother was long dead, and no matter how hard he prayed or dreamed, he could never have her back. The girl named Chuck was miles away in Coeur d' Coeurs, and had surely forgotten about him years ago. And his father…

Ned did his best to choke back his emotion as a crushing feeling of loneliness suddenly struck him. He threw himself back onto his tiny bed, not even bothering to remove his cap and gown. He stared at the ceiling intently, not quite sure what he expected the cracking white plaster to tell him, but frustrated nonetheless when it did nothing but stare right back at him.

"So what's next for us, Digby?" He muttered. "Where do we go from here?"

While most of his classmates would be heading off to college in the fall, Ned had instead applied to every culinary institute in the state… and had been rejected by every single one. His dream of turning his beloved hobby into a lifetime career had been abandoned months before. Ned had instead planned to use a portion of the money left to him by his mother to rent a small apartment in the city – but had forgotten that he was not yet eighteen, and was therefore unable to settle on his own.

But there was nothing he could do about it – tomorrow morning, Ned would be thrust into the world with nothing but a small suitcase of belongings and the slowly dwindling contents of his bank account. Ned tried to convince himself that he would make it somehow. Surely, somewhere out there, he would find a temporary home for himself and Digby.

And from there… well, Ned tried to avoid thinking about the future almost as much as he tried to avoid thinking about the past. He was also just as unsuccessful. Ned knew that what remained of his inheritance was certainly not enough to live on – not for very long. He would soon need to find a job, start a life… something, he now realized, he wasn't quite ready for.

As Ned was suddenly hit with the horrifying realization that he had no idea what he was going to do with his life, there was a soft knock at the door. Ned leapt up suddenly. "Come in!" He called, puzzled at who on earth it could be. The only other people who ever visited the room were his roommates, and they certainly never knocked.

"Excuse me," the kindly old lady smiled as she peeked through the door. "We're cleaning out the mailroom for the end of term and we've found several letters that were never claimed."

Ned flopped back onto the bed, disinterested. "Oh." He said simply. "Well you can just put them on the desk… they're not here."

"Alright, dear." The woman smiled sweetly as she began flipping through her stack of mail. She placed a small pile of what were surely graduation cards and letters of congratulations on the small desk by the door.

She began to leave, but stopped suddenly, waving a long white envelope in the air with a smile. "I almost forgot… there's one for you, too."

"Huh?" Ned raised one of his eyebrows, certain that he had misheard her.

He approached her uncertainly and she placed the letter in his outstretched hand with a smile. "There you go, dear."

"Uh… thanks." Ned muttered, but she was already gone.

Eager to investigate, Digby had followed his master and raised his head to sniff the mysterious letter, which Ned was now eyeing with confusion.

It was a flat white envelope, postmarked nearly three weeks before. Ned's name and the school's address had been written in tiny, cramped handwriting at the center. There was no return address.

Hands trembling, Ned slowly ripped the envelope's corner, hoping against hope that he would find a card or letter from his father inside – reassurance that, though he would be unable to attend his son's graduation, he was thinking of him. That he regretted abandoning his son all those years ago and wanted to reconnect with him, to start their relationship anew. Perhaps his father _would _keep his promise after all…

Ned's heart leapt as he finally reached the contents of the envelope. _It's now or never…_ He thought, as he unfolded the crisp white sheet of paper and began to read. Though what he had been hoping for was a letter of apology from his father, what he found instead was a letter of a different sort.

It was an acceptance letter, from The Dominique D'Aubigne Institute of Delectable Desserts and Delights. It was the first school to which Ned had applied, and the only one from which he had never received a response. Ned had assumed it was because his application and interview had been so terrible, when in fact, it was merely because of a rather flaky secretarial staff.

Ned had to read the letter six times before he would allow himself to believe that its words were true. All his dreams, which minutes ago lay shattered at his feet, now sparkled before his eyes as perfect and vivid as ever.

Ned now realized that, though life does not always give you what you want or what you expect, what you get in its place can be just as good… maybe even better. In that moment, the boy who would one day be known as the pie maker knew _exactly _what he wanted to do with his life.

_A/N: Hope you enjoyed! I know PD isn't the most popular fanfic category after the show's cancellation and I won't have a lot of readers… but if you DID read it, would you pretty please review? They're the fuel that keeps me going hahaha._


	2. Chapter One

_A/N: Thanks SO much to my reviewers! You made my day! As a reward, you get Chapter One really fast haha. The rest of the chapters probably won't be up QUITE so soon, but you should still expect fairly regular updates, if all goes according to plan!_

_IMPORTANT NOTE: So that you don't have to do the math and figure it out, this story takes place approximately 2 years after the end of the series. Enjoy!_

_**CHAPTER ONE**_

Exactly fifteen years, twelve weeks, four days, seven hours and twenty-four minutes later, the pie maker found himself… doing exactly what he wanted to do with his life.

As he slid the delectable smelling strawberry-rhubarb pie out of the large oven and placed it on the countertop, Ned let out a sigh of relief. After what had felt like weeks (but had really been hours), his exhausting day of work was, at last, complete. Although the Pie Hole was not open on Sundays, Ned had been working almost non-stop since early morning, rushing to complete nearly a week's worth of pies in one day.

The reason for this seemingly bizarre bout of baking was that, for the first time in his life, the pie maker was going on vacation. His combined anxiety over plane crashes, missing luggage, jetlag, and leaving his precious Pie Hole in the hands of his two half-brothers for an entire week, inevitably led to a frenzy of stress-baking.

Thankfully, this worked in Ned's favor. For though Maurice and Ralston had proved themselves both responsible and capable enough to handle the restaurant's managerial duties, the same could not be said about their cooking ability.

Ned glanced up at the ceiling, wincing at the faint black singe marks that had resulted from the first (and only) time he had tried to show his brothers how to bake. A series of terrifying thoughts suddenly flooded his mind.

What if they ran out of pre-cooked pies and tried to make more? What if their pies tasted so horrible, no one ever came back to the Pie Hole again? Or worse, what if they left the oven on, as they did last time? What if the pie maker came home to nothing but a pile of ashes where his beloved restaurant once stood?

Ned was so lost in his horrible imaginings that he almost forgot he was not alone.

Chuck eyed him for a moment before speaking. "I know that face," She said with a sigh, her voice pulling Ned back to the present. "You're thinking of changing your mind… _again._"

"Of course not." Ned replied wearily, absently wiping his flour-covered hands on his apron. "I can't change my mind… because I never really made it up in the first place." He smiled sheepishly at her.

She did not return the gesture. "_Ned_, we bought our tickets weeks ago! And we promised we'd be there…"

"We've seen Lily and Vivian perform hundreds of times." Ned countered. "And it's not like they've never been to Europe before."

"But this is _Paris!_" Chuck insisted. "I've dreamed of going there ever since I was a little girl, and now I finally have an excuse." Her voice was pleading, but Ned did not look convinced. "Come on, please? It'll be fun… almost like a second honeymoon." She added with a smile.

Ned laughed, shaking his head. "But… we never even had a first one. Remember?"

Though both Ned and Chuck had known that, legally, they could never be husband and wife (it was, after all, incredibly difficult to marry someone who has been dead for three years), nearly five months ago to the day, the two held a private "ceremony" of sorts in the Pie Hole.

Digby; Pigby; Aunt Vivian; Chuck's mother, Lily; Ned's half-brothers; and, of course, Emerson Cod were all in attendance. Thanks to her short stint at a nunnery, Olive was the closest thing to "ordained" that they had, so she had presided over their exchange of vows and rings (which was cleverly performed with the help of plastic gloves). It certainly wasn't conventional, but to the pie maker and the girl he called Chuck, whom he now also called his wife, it was perfect.

For the sake of irony, the two had originally planned to celebrate their new life together the same way Chuck had once lost hers – on a Tahitian cruise. Their plans were changed, however, upon learning that the very day they were to set sail, the boat's captain was mysteriously murdered and the cruise was cancelled.

Thankfully for the newlyweds, they were able to profit from their disappointment, as Emerson Cod had been hired by the cruise line that very same day to solve the case. Ned and Chuck planned to use their share of the reward money to fund a second attempt at a trip together, but the opportunity never presented itself – until now.

"Well it'll be like a _first _honeymoon, then." Chuck corrected herself, smiling. "All the more reason to go."

Ned bit his lip, thinking. Maybe Chuck had a point… it might be nice to finally get away for once. He thought back to all the trouble Emerson had gone through to acquire fake travel documents for Chuck. And surely Lily and Vivian would be devastated if they didn't go… They _had_ promised, after all.

He let out a long slow breath. "Guess this means I have to go re-pack."

Chuck could not hold back her laughter. "You already unpacked?" She untied her apron and crumpled it into a ball, throwing it at him playfully. "I can't believe you!"

Ned held up his hands in defense, laughing softly as he caught the apron easily. "Well in my defense, I was pretty clueless about what to pack in the first place… so you would have had to help me re-do it anyway." He smiled crookedly at her.

"Thank you." Chuck said seriously after a few moments. "This really means a lot to me."

"I know it does." He replied.

"_And…"_ A mysterious glint suddenly sparkled in his wife's eye, "I have something that I think will make you _really_ happy you decided to go."

Ned raised an eyebrow at her, intrigued. "What are you talking about?" He asked cautiously.

Chuck reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled and folded piece of paper. "Well, I was doing some research to find something fun for us to do in Paris… beyond all the cliché, tourist-y stuff, of course. And I found something I think you'll like…"

She cleared her throat for dramatic effect before finally reading aloud. "Have you ever been curious about foreign cuisine? If so, you are cordially invited to an international cooking conference, hosted by world-renowned and award-winning pastry chef Dominique D'Aubigne. This Tuesday, August –"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Ned cut her off suddenly, his eyes lighting up more and more with each word he spoke. "Did you say 'Dominique D'Aubigne'? As in, _the _Dominique D'Aubigne? Best-selling author, inventor of the automatic flour-sifter, five-time winner of the Golden Rolling Pin award for excellence in baking, and founder of the Dominique D'Aubigne International Institute of Delectable Desserts and Delights?!"

Chuck grinned widely at the look on Ned's face. "That's the one."

The pie maker tried desperately to avoid squealing like a little girl… and almost succeeded. What came out was a bizarre squawking sound, which he tried to cover with a particularly loud cough.

Chuck was not fooled. "See? Told you you'd be happy." She handed him the flyer as she spoke.

Ned was still fighting to contain himself as he quickly read the paper he now held in his hands. "Chuck, this woman is my inspiration. I mean, besides my mom, she taught me everything I know about baking." His eyes had begun to develop a very far-away look as he spoke. "Back when I was at school, she designed the entire curriculum… and I've read every book she's ever written."

"I know." Chuck smiled at him. "I'm pretty sure I've heard you quote at least one of her cooking tips daily ever since you brought me back to life."

Ned felt himself blush slightly. "Really?"

"Mmm-hmm…" Chuck nodded. "Personally, I think it's cute."

He sighed wistfully, glancing down at the flyer yet again. "I can't believe it… I've dreamt of meeting her for the past fifteen years."

"And now you can." Chuck smiled softly. "You're welcome." She added playfully.

It was Ned's turn to be sincere. "Thank you." He said seriously. "Not just for this… I mean for convincing me to go in the first place. I don't know what I was thinking before." He smiled at her. "I know it'll be great."

"Of course it will," Chuck said brightly, "But only if you get there with more than just the clothes on your back!" She began wiping down the countertops as she spoke. "You go start packing and I'll clean up down here."

"Alright."

Chuck smiled sweetly at her husband as he headed out the back entrance and up to their apartment. Once he was gone, however, her smile quickly faded as the guilt she had been suppressing for the past two weeks began threatening to break through. It was as though the postcard that lay hidden in her pocket weighed a thousand pounds, pulling her down with the weight of the lie she had been telling the pie maker.

For she had not been truthful about the _real_ reason she was so adamant on taking this trip. But it was too late. The tickets were bought, their suitcases were (mostly) packed, and they would be leaving for Paris in the morning.

_Why do things have to be so complicated?_ She wondered miserably as she threw the wet dishrag into the empty sink.

"Come on, Digby." Chuck called to the golden retriever who lay sleeping in the corner.

Digby leapt up from his spot on the floor and rubbed affectionately against her legs for a moment before bounding out the open back door and up the stairs.

With one last look at the now empty kitchen, Chuck took in a deep breath, composed her face, tucked away her guilt, and followed.

_A/N: Oooh, a mystery! Hahaha. Keep following my story to (eventually) learn the truth! Thanks so much for reading! Oh, and I've just gotta do some shameless self-promotion here... So if you want, here's a Ned and Chuck music video I made! Go to youtube, and after the dot-com part, type "/watch?v=gzBicLCbjwc" (without quotes, of course!)_


	3. Chapter Two

_A/N: Thanks again for the reviews! You guys are great! This is the last chapter of "set-up" before things really start to get-going._

_I know that I have this story listed as "General/Romance", but if it were allowed, it would be listed as "General/Romance/Humor/Mystery/Angst/Drama/Family"… but this site only lets you pick two genres hahahaha. So expect a wide variety of "themes" and emotions throughout!_

_Enjoy the next chapter!_

_**Chapter Two**_

"Ned, calm down."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Just breathe."

"I am breathing."

"Ned…"

"Will you listen to the damn girl?" Emerson snapped suddenly at the man sitting beside him.

Ned's knuckles were turning white as he clutched the armrests of his seat, staring fixedly at the headrest in front of him. He did not reply.

Emerson sighed heavily in exasperation. "Look, just 'cause you've never been on a plane before don't mean you gotta be freakin' out like this." He glanced at the window seat across the aisle. "Your little Mrs. seems to be handling it just fine."

Chuck shrugged. "I just guess there's not too much that can scare me anymore. I mean, if you think about what I've already – "

Emerson cut her off with a hard look and shook his head slightly, his eyes shifting toward Simone, who sat beside Chuck in the aisle seat across from him. She was taking Bubblegum to a dog show in Versailles that weekend, so she and Emerson had opted to join Ned and Chuck on their mini-vacation. As she was neither blind nor stupid, Simone knew that there was something very strange going on with the young couple, whom she had never seen touch, not even once, in the two years that she had known them. Still, she preferred not to ask questions.

Because they were staring at her as though expecting some sort of reaction, Simone tried to look politely intrigued at what Chuck had said. The truth was that she had become quite accustomed to these awkward, half-finished comments that seemed to make no sense, and they no longer bothered her. Before she could say anything, however, Ned was speaking again.

"Okay, maybe I am freaking out a little. But, statistically speaking, there's a 1 in 10 million chance that this plane will fall out of the sky and we'll all be dead. And while those may sound like good odds, keep in mind that things in my life tend to be pretty out-of-the-ordinary… which may very well include out-of-the-ordinary odds of dying in a fiery inferno of twisted metal with my lungs full of smoke and my stomach full of cheap airline peanuts." The words came tumbling out of Ned's lips quite suddenly before he closed his mouth shut as tight as it would go, for fear that he would vomit all over the plane.

Chuck, who had never seen Ned so jittery and paranoid, could not decide whether she found this cute and endearing or simply pitiful. "Just relax." She said calmly. "I'm right here." She glanced sideways at Emerson. "Can you hold his hand for me?"

He smiled sweetly at her. "Oh yeah, of course. Just let me give pie-boy's hand a romantic squeeze in front of all these people. That wouldn't be strange or embarrassing at all. Girl, who do you think you're talking to? I ain't gonna hold a grown man's hand! How'd you talk me into agreeing to sit next to…"

While Emerson's rant continued, Chuck glanced helplessly at Simone, who gave her a quick wink as she rummaged in the bottom of her purse. "I'm on it." She whispered to Chuck. "Maybe this will get them _both _to finally shut it."

Chuck nodded fervently in reply as a sudden clicking noise pierced the air, causing Emerson to stop mid-sentence. "Emerson?" Simone said calmly.

She didn't even need to give the command; Emerson's hand was already outstretched toward Ned, who hesitated a moment before grabbing it firmly, trying to compose himself enough to smile across the aisle at Chuck. It took him a few moments before he was successful.

"See?" She smiled back at him. "You're fine."

"Yeah, wish I could say the same about my hand. I've only got two of 'em, you know." Emerson clenched his teeth as he spoke, shooting a glare at Ned, who loosened his grip ever-so-slightly.

"Sorry." He muttered, embarrassed.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we thank you for your patience." The captain's muffled voice suddenly sounded over the loudspeakers. "We are currently third in line for take-off and should be off the ground in about 10 minutes."

Ned's grip was suddenly vice-like, and Emerson was fairly certain he would never fully regain feeling of his hand. He sighed miserably. "This is gonna be one Hell of a long flight…"

XXX

Seven hours and forty-three minutes later, their plane finally touched the ground in Paris, and not a moment too soon. While Ned had spent the duration of the flight attempting to cover his panic and terror with awkward and nervous conversation, Emerson had spent it trying to decide which option was most logical: throwing the pie maker out the window, or throwing himself? Fortunately, their plane landed before he was able to come to a decision.

Nearly an hour after the two couples had gone their separate ways, Ned was still feeling guilty for all the grief he had caused Emerson during the flight. "So… how much do you think he hates me?" He asked as he paid the taxi driver.

"Hmm…" Chuck feigned deep concentration. "I'd say no more than usual." She laughed softly as she spoke. "Just don't worry about it."

Ned rolled their suitcases toward the curb, finally glancing up at the enormous hotel for the first time. All of his concerns about Emerson suddenly fled his mind. "Wow." He said softly, craning his neck to take in all 15 floors of the immense structure.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Chuck took a moment to admire the building as well before finally leading the way up the small ramp and toward the open front doors. "Come on!" She called to Ned, who was still standing by the curb and staring, open-mouthed.

The lobby proved to be even more impressive than the exterior, leaving Ned dumbfounded as he hung back, watching Chuck approach the front desk. Between his revenue from the Pie Hole and working regularly with Emerson, Ned had made a very comfortable living (to say the least). But apart from Chuck's engagement ring, never before had he actually spent any significant amount of money, and certainly not on himself, let alone for something as fancy or luxurious as this. It was quite overwhelming

Ned hesitated in the entryway, suddenly finding himself in a dilemma. The beautiful marble floor was so spotless and shining that he could almost see his own reflection in its surface. And the plush red carpet that ran down the lobby was meticulously centered and perfectly pristine, without a speck of dust or dirt. He glanced down at his old converse sneakers, too afraid to take a step and suddenly wishing he were able to levitate.

Unfortunately Ned's powers did not extend beyond waking the dead. Seeing no other solution, he hurriedly scuffled his feet on the ground, hoping it would eliminate any traces of dirt, before following along behind Chuck, who had already begun checking in.

"Let's see…" The receptionist muttered, her eyes scanning the computer screen. "Here you are… Katherine Pims, room for two?"

"Yes, that's me." Chuck smiled sweetly, hoping she sounded casual. Her smile widened as she peeked over her shoulder, noticing that Ned had appeared behind her, handing their luggage to a nearby bellman.

"My husband and I are actually here for our honeymoon," Chuck continued."And I was wondering if there was anything special you could do."

"Of course!" The receptionist looked up at her, smiling. "If you call down to reception this evening, we can send up a complementary bottle of champagne and something special from the kitchen."

Chuck beamed at Ned, who was now standing at her side. "Perfect."

"Let me just get you your keys and… Hmm… That's strange…" The woman furrowed her brow and clicked the mouse several times. Something that, as Chuck and the pie maker knew, was generally not a good sign.

"Is something wrong?" Ned asked after a few moments.

"I'm afraid there's been some kind of mix-up." The woman's voice was apologetic. "It appears that we have you in a family suite with two double beds… I'm trying to see if any of our honeymoon suites are available, but it doesn't look like we –"

"Oh, there's no mistake." Chuck interjected. "We booked that room."

The receptionist eyed them strangely. "But didn't you say you're on your honeymoon?"

"Uh… it's an homage." Ned said suddenly, scrambling to come up with an excuse. "To… 'I Love Lucy'…?" He ended the sentence as though it were a question, earning yet another curious look from the woman.

"Oh, yes." Chuck suddenly caught-on. She turned to Ned, shaking a finger at him. "You got some 'splainin to do!" She burst into a fit of too-loud, fake laughter, which Ned quickly joined.

The woman let out a very unenthusiastic chuckle. "Right… Well, you're in room 817… here are your keys."

"Thank you." Chuck smiled as she took them from the woman and followed an already retreating Ned down the hallway.

They could feel the receptionist's eyes on their backs all the way to the elevator.

XXX

"So aside from that poor woman downstairs thinking we're insane, I'd say things are going well so far." Chuck emerged from the bathroom as she spoke, wearing nothing but a fluffy white towel.

Ned, who had been relaxing on his bed, sat up as she entered. "Except for the fact that we've only been here for an hour and haven't even left the hotel room." He smiled at her. "Which means there'll be plenty of opportunities for things to go downhill."

"Or uphill." Chuck countered. Still wearing her towel, she yawned softly and lay back on her bed, her wet hair spilling out over the pillows. "I know we're already behind schedule on sightseeing." She said wearily, closing her eyes. "But I think I need a minute."

"Mmm." Ned nodded, sympathetic. "Jetlag." He stood and crossed the room, stopping to stand beside his wife's bed. He opened his mouth to speak again, but the words immediately caught in his throat the moment he looked at her.

The gentle curve of her eyelashes where they brushed her cheek, the fullness of her perfect rosy lips, the slow rise and fall of her chest with each breath she took… it was too much to take. His eyes drank in the sight of her, his heart aching with longing.

Any normal man would be unable to resist the temptation to climb into bed beside her, to whisper things in her ear that would make her blush, to brush away those wet strands of hair from her face, to kiss that perfectly soft pair of lips…

But thanks to the cruel hand of fate, Ned was _not_ a normal man, and all he could do was stare longingly at the woman he loved, imagining all the things that he would give the world to share with her, but never could.

Chuck's eyes suddenly fluttered open, looking upward into Ned's face. "Were you staring at me?" She asked playfully. "Because some girls might find that sort of creepy."

When he did not reply nor return her smile, Chuck knew something was amiss. "What's wrong?" She asked softly.

"Nothing." He whispered, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's just that you're so beautiful… and it's kind of driving me crazy." Ned smiled weakly as he spoke.

What he did not realize was that the sight of her husband standing over her, with his strong arms, tousled hair, gentle eyes, and sweet smile she loved so much, was driving Chuck crazy as well. She stared at the ceiling for a few moments before speaking. "I know." A sad sigh escaped her lips. "Sometimes it's just… so hard."

"More like all the time." Ned replied miserably.

Chuck would have given anything to be able to have a normal relationship with the man of her dreams. Or, at the very least, a normal honeymoon. But that was, as she well knew, impossible. It looked like Ned was right – things were already starting to go downhill… But why should she let them? She sat up slowly, suddenly filled with a new resolve.

"Alright." Chuck said firmly, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "No more moping… from either of us. We are going to have the most fun and romantic honeymoon anyone has ever had." Chuck smiled as she spoke. "It definitely won't be normal… but personally I think normal's overrated."

Ned could not hold back a soft chuckle. He could tell by the look in her eyes how much it meant to her, so he decided to try his best. "Okay…" He raised his hand in the air, as though taking an oath. "As of right now, all moping is officially out of my system."

Chuck's smile widened. "Good." She picked up the pile of clothes from the edge of her bed and began heading back toward the bathroom. "Now that that's done and over with, I'm going to go change so we can finally do some exploring!"

"Wait!" Ned called, causing her to stop mid-stride. He hesitated a moment before speaking. "Y'know, you can still drive me just a _little _crazier… if you want."

He smiled crookedly at her as she let the towel drop to the floor.

_A/N: Hahaha sorry for that random explosion of angst at the end of the chapter, but expect there to be little bits of this type of things sprinkled throughout. _

_The way I see it, (in this story) Ned and Chuck have been together for 3 years and have been "married" for nearly half a year. And while, on one hand, they are getting more and more used to the "no-touching" thing, I also think that the longer they are together, the stronger their love becomes and, consequently, the stronger their physical desire for one another. This, combined with being on their honeymoon, equals lots of angst-y feelings Hahaha._

_Next chapter is where things will really start moving forward! Please review to keep me motivated to write faster lol. You guys are great._


	4. Interlude 1

_A/N: Hello again! As always, thanks for the reviews!_

_So here's the deal – I was originally planning on having little flashback-y scenes (similar style to the intro to all the episodes, like I did with the prologue) throughout the story as introductions to chapters (to kind of tie the past and present together). But when I finally started writing one, it turned out too long to be just an introduction, but (for me) not quite long enough to be a full, stand-alone chapter…_

_So I've decided that the way it's gonna work is that, every once in a while, we'll have little "interlude" chapters that kind of break the flow of the regular story, but give you a bit of insight into the characters' history, mindset, etc, if that makes sense._

_Hope you enjoy the first interlude chapter!_

_**INTERLUDE **_

_It had been exactly two hours and thirty-three minutes since young Charlotte Charles and her father finally finished unloading the last of the boxes from the enormous white moving truck that had delivered them to their new home in Coeur d' Couers. Charlotte tried her best to treat this sudden move as an exciting new adventure, like the ones that her father so often told her about. In truth, she was not very upset about moving away; she had not had very many friends at her old school, but Charlotte was going to miss living so close to her aunts, Lily and Vivian._

_The reasons for the move were never quite clear to young Charlotte. All she knew was that one night, a visit from her aunts had resulted into a horrible screaming match between her father and Aunt Lily. Less than a week later, her father announced that they were going to move. When his daughter confronted him, Charles Charles assured her that the decision was in no way related to the argument. But Charlotte knew better. _

_Quickly growing tired of unpacking, young Charlotte had decided to venture outside and explore the neighborhood. She didn't have to go far before finding something of interest – a young boy sat on the lawn across the street beside a large golden retriever. It sounded like the boy was talking to someone, but there was no one else in sight. _

_"Who are you talking to?" Charlotte asked as she approached._

_The boy looked up at her and shrugged. "Just Digby."_

_Charlotte looked around, confused. Besides the boy and his dog, the yard was empty. "Is he imaginary or something?"_

_"No… He's my best friend in the whole world." The boy stood up as he spoke, then lovingly scratched the golden retriever behind the ears. "This is Digby."He nodded down toward his furry companion._

_Charlotte could not help but giggle at the boy's unexpected response. "Well it's very nice to meet you, Digby." She bent down and pet the dog gently on the head, smiling. "Does he ever talk back?" She asked the boy, her tone slightly mocking._

_"Not with words." He replied seriously._

_The girl looked him up and down for a moment. "You're weird." Charlotte decided._

_He did not appear to be insulted by her comment. "Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?" The boy asked._

_Charlotte had to ponder his question before responding. "I dunno." She said finally. "Maybe both."_

_The boy did not immediately respond, but instead gazed at her thoughtfully while she continued petting Digby. "My dad told me his friend was moving in across the street." The boy finally broke the silence. "But he didn't tell me he had any kids."_

_"Just one." Charlotte corrected him._

_The boy smiled for the first time. "Me too." He said._

_Charlotte felt herself smile as well, happy that they had finally found something in common. "So you don't have anyone to play with?"_

_The boy shook his head. "Not unless you count Digby." _

_She hesitated for a moment. "Well, I guess you could play with __me__ sometimes… if you want." _

_"But I thought you said I was weird."_

_"You are." Charlotte said simply. In fact, with each passing second, she was becoming more and more certain that he was the most peculiar boy she'd ever met. There was something strange and thoughtful about him. She desperately wished she could read his mind._

"_What's your name?" She asked him._

_"I'm Ned." He replied. "What about you?"_

_"Charlotte. Charlotte Charles."_

_Ned paused thoughtfully for a moment before shaking his head. "Nope. I don't like it."_

_"__Excuse__ me?"_

_"I don't think it's good for you." He explained. "It's a grown-up name."_

_Charlotte glared at him. "And who says I'm not grown-up?!"_

_Ned raised his eyebrow at her. "Are you eighteen?"_

_"Of course not."_

_"Then you're not grown-up." The boy seemed completely oblivious to the fact that Charlotte very much wanted to smack him across the face._

_She stared at him harshly for a few more moments, before finally giving up. There was definitely something unusual about this boy – it was impossible to stay angry at him. "Okay, fine." Charlotte sighed in exasperation. "Then what do you wanna call me?"_

_"Hmmm…" Ned seriously considered her question. "What about Charlie?" He tried._

_Charlotte laughed, shaking her head. "No way! People call my __dad__ that!"_

_"Okay, definitely not." Ned agreed. He stared at her for several more moments before his face suddenly broke into a wide smile. "Chuck." He said confidently. "It's perfect." _

_"But it's a boy's name!"_

_Ned merely shrugged. "I like it."_

_Before Charlotte had a chance to respond, she heard her father calling to her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw him standing on the front porch, gesturing for her to come home._

_"I gotta go." She sighed. "We're still unpacking. But I guess I'll see you later."_

_Ned nodded, glancing down at Digby. "Say 'bye', Digby."_

_To Charlotte's amazement, the dog let out a soft bark and wagged his tail happily. She stared at Ned, wide-eyed._

_"Told you he doesn't use words." He said simply, giving her a soft, crooked smile – the very same one that, in later years, would so often make her heart melt. "See you later, Chuck."_

_And it was in that one, magical moment that young Charlotte "Chuck" Charles, aged seven years, twenty-three weeks, two days, sixteen hours and five minutes, decided that she would one day marry the strange, quiet boy who lived across the street._

_And, in that exact instant, young Ned made the very same decision._

XXX

_A/N: Hope you liked it! I had so much fun writing that!_

_It was really hard to decide what kind of personalities young Ned and Chuck would have (since people tend to change a lot between childhood and adulthood!) but it was really fun to figure out. _

_Please review! The next chapter is already in the works! :) _


	5. Chapter Three

_A/N: Sorry for giving you guys a bit of a wait before this chapter!_

_Unfortunately I lied last time… the NEXT chapter is the one where things REALLY get going (NOT lying this time! The ball will soon be rolling and we'll get some Lily and Vivian, some more Emerson, and even some Olive!). _

_I already started writing it, and I originally intended it to be here instead of this chapter, but it just felt like things were rushing along a bit too fast (we would have jumped an entire day from the hotel room to Ned's food convention), so I decided to write this and use it as Chapter Three instead. (It's a little bit "rusty" I think… I wrote it a lot faster and did a lot less editing on this one, but I was just really anxious to get the story moving!)_

_I'm just too much of a sucker for the Ned/Chuck stuff (I'm apologizing in advance here for being pretty self-indulging with this chapter), but we get a bit more insight into Chuck's secret at the end of this one._

_Enjoy! And PLEASE read the 2__nd__ author's note at the end of this chapter! _

_**CHAPTER THREE**_

Chuck hummed softly to herself as she walked down the busy Parisian street, unable to believe that she was actually living out the dream she'd had ever since that mid-May morning 24 years, 9 weeks, 5 days, 17 hours, and 39 minutes ago. She was finally married to that strange, quiet boy who had lived across the street, and was spending her honeymoon in the most romantic city in the world – somewhere she had dreamed of visiting even longer than she'd dreamed of sharing her life with the pie maker.

Her eyes shifted toward her husband, who was walking several feet away from her. Ned smiled softly as his gaze met hers, making Chuck's heart flutter. _How could this be any more perfect?_ She wondered.

The universe was quick to respond, for at that very moment, she spied a young couple walking in their direction, their fingers entwined and heads very close together. The man bent down and planted a gentle kiss on the girl's cheek, making her giggle softly as they strolled past Chuck and Ned, who had left so much sidewalk space between them that the couple was able to pass through quite easily.

_Oh right,_ Chuck remembered as she stared down at the ground, her feeling of euphoria quickly fading. _That's__ how…_ She sighed sadly, fearing she would soon be breaking her own "no moping" rule.

"Chuck."

"Hmm?" She looked up at the sound of Ned's voice to find that he had stopped walking and was now standing at the edge of the sidewalk, staring at her.

"Chuck, you – "

"I know, I know. I'm sorry." Chuck sighed again, frustrated with herself. "Like I said – this is going to be a mope-free vacation." She raised her right hand, just as Ned had done back at the hotel, and smiled at him.

Ned laughed and shook his head. "Well I'm glad to hear that, but…" He pointed at something over Chuck's left shoulder. "I was just trying to tell you that you should turn around."

"Huh?"

Their evening stroll through the city had brought them to the foot of an enormous bridge that passed right over the Seine. And in the distance, towering over everything else in the Parisian skyline was…

"The Eiffel Tower!" Chuck clapped her hands together in delight at the sight of it. "Oh, isn't it amazing?" She whispered.

"It's beautiful." Ned agreed as he crossed the sidewalk to stand beside her and admire the gigantic structure. Neither of them spoke for several moments as they stared across the river, marveling at the world-famous tower. "Wow." He said softly, finally breaking the silence. "I can't believe we're really here…"

"Come on!" Chuck smiled at him suddenly, her previous euphoria quickly returning. "I wanna remember this… Let's take a picture!" She began digging in her purse as she spoke. "Here, hold this."

Confused, Ned carefully removed the camera from her grasp as Chuck began lifting her hair and hiding it away beneath her newly-bought white beret. As she tucked away the last few strands, she excitedly flagged down a nearby heavyset man, whose Bermuda shorts, baseball cap, and fanny pack clearly cried out "I am an American tourist!"

"Excuse me," She said brightly. "Would you mind taking a picture for us?"

"Sure." The man smiled as a still-puzzled Ned handed him the camera.

"Oh, and can I borrow your jacket for a minute?" Chuck asked as her eyes fell on the large faux-leather jacket that lay slung over the man's arms.

"I guess…" He muttered confusedly as he handed it to her. "But it's about 80 degrees, lady. Why'd you think I took it off in the first place?"

"Thank you," Chuck said, ignoring his comment and quickly donning the jacket. It was at least four sizes too big, and fell down to her knees. Her hands were lost inside the enormous sleeves, and its high collar nearly reached her ears. _Perfect._ She thought happily.

"Chuck, what are you…?" Ned's eyes took in her safely covered hair, neck, and arms. Everything suddenly clicked into place. "Oh." He said, smiling.

She winked at him.

With a few moments' hesitation to check for any escaped strands of hair, Ned stepped behind his wife and slowly bent forward, wrapping his arms around the bulky jacket that encased her waist. He suddenly felt the cool, smooth feeling of fabric against his skin as Chuck raised her hands (safely hidden within the gigantic sleeves) to cover his.

"Okay… one, two, three." The camera flashed brightly, perfectly capturing their smiling faces, their loving embrace, and the iconic, thousand-foot tower in the background.

Chuck beamed at their photographer, proud of her own ingenuity. "Thank you so much!"

Reluctantly, Ned began to pull away from her, his hands inadvertently sliding beneath the open jacket and onto the silky yellow surface of Chuck's sundress. He allowed his hands to linger, relishing in the close proximity. For a moment, Ned forgot they were not alone as he slowly slid his hands down her waist onto the gentle curve of her hips. Chuck took in a breath and closed her eyes, cursing the thin layer of fabric that separated Ned's strong, gentle hands from her bare skin. She could just barely feel the heat of his breath as it brushed past her ear… he was dangerously close, and the thought of it thrilled her. A tiny sigh escaped her lips as Ned's hands changed direction and slowly began sliding back up her body…

The very bewildered man cleared his throat softly, the sound almost lost beneath the mutterings of the small tourist group who had also stopped to stare at the rather bizarre scene. "Um… may I have my jacket back, please?"

Ned's eyes snapped open and he quickly retreated several paces back, shoving his hands into his pockets. Chuck's cheeks had begun to redden as she hurriedly removed the jacket and handed it back to the man, who eyed her strangely as he returned her camera.

"Sorry… We, uh…" Ned murmured awkwardly.

"Come on, let's go!" Chuck cut him off, desperate to flee the scene.

She gave the gawking tourist one last small smile. "Thanks again for the picture!"

XXX

Though it did not take long for Chuck's humiliation to fade away, the pie maker was still feeling mortified more than an hour later as he and Chuck finally entered the elevator that would bring them to the top of the Tower.

"Can't we just forget about it?" Chuck shook her head at him as they each took a spot on separate sides of the crowded lift. "Normal couples get caught doing stuff like that all the time."

"No," Ned replied, calling over the heads of the other tourists as the elevator began to rise. "Normal couples get caught kissing." He sighed. "Chuck, you were standing in the hot sun wearing an overweight man's jacket, and I was…" Ned paused, glancing around at the other occupants of the elevator and deciding that words like "feeling up" or "groping" were best not used in mixed company. "It was embarrassing." He said finally.

"You seemed to enjoy it at the time." Chuck eyed him playfully.

Ned could not hold back a smile. "I did." He admitted.

"Me too." She smiled widely at him. "So I don't see what the problem is."

Before Ned could come up with a reply, the elevator came to a halt and its doors slid open, revealing a large circular observation deck. The sun had just begun to set, bathing the entire room (and entire city) with a rosy glow. It was breathtaking. Much to Ned's amusement, Chuck immediately began bobbing from window to window, snapping photos from every angle and babbling on endlessly about each landmark she saw.

Ned followed behind her at a safe distance, gazing out each window in awe as he passed. But though he found the views astounding and the very idea of being in Paris incredible, he realized that what he was enjoying most was simply seeing his wife so happy. He could feel his own smile widen with every cry of delight or over-excited comment she made.

"Ned, look!" Chuck's voice awoke him from his thoughts as she pointed toward a distant window on the other side of the tower.

"My dad used to tell me about this place all the time," Chuck explained as they drew closer to the spot where she had been pointing. "He was stationed in France for a while, back when he was in the service. And he always said that the most beautiful view he'd ever seen was of the Sacre Coeur at sunset… The third window from the left on the north side." She glanced over her shoulder to smile softly at Ned. "He promised he'd take me here one day and show me, but he never had the chance."

As she finished speaking, the famous Sacre Coeur Basilica finally came into view, perched far in the distance at the top of a high hill. The beautiful domed church glowed a fiery red in the light of the setting sun and cast several dark, elongated shadows on the city below. All of Paris appeared so calm and peaceful as it lay at the feet of the blood-red building, waiting to greet the coming night. Chuck was left speechless at the sight of it, and Ned silently agreed with Chuck's father that it was one of the most beautiful sights he'd seen.

"It's incredible." Chuck sighed contentedly as she continued staring out over the city.

Ned finally tore his eyes away from the breathtaking view to face her. "Just so you know," He said softly. "This is the part where I would grab you and kiss you 'til it made you dizzy."

She smiled at him. "That's always my favorite part."

"Well, if I remember correctly, that nice lady at the hotel said something about dinner and free champagne… And maybe afterwards…" He tried his best to imitate that cute, flirty way she always looked at him.

Chuck's smile widened. "And maybe afterwards you could find a few other ways to make me dizzy?"

Ned shrugged casually, though he was unable to completely erase the smile from his face. "I think we packed accordingly." He said simply, glancing sideways at her.

"Okay." Chuck said finally, stepping back from the window. "But just one more picture before we go!" She pointed toward the ledge that ran along the perimeter of the observation deck. "Here, you go stand there, in front of the window…. Perfect!" She grinned as she lifted the camera to her eye. "The two most beautiful things in the world in one shot."

Ned rolled his eyes at her comment, but said nothing.

"Okay, here we go!" Chuck called as she clicked the shutter button, capturing her perfect picture.

But as she looked through the viewfinder, Chuck noticed something peculiar. A small, reflective object lay on the window's ledge beside the pie maker, noticeable only because of the red-orange glow given to it by the light of the sun. Why hadn't they seen it before?

Chuck was too far away to be sure exactly what it was, but something inside her already knew.

"Chuck, is something wrong?" Ned asked.

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine, I just…" She bent toward the ground as though searching for something and hastily raised her hand to her ear, removing her tiny earring and concealing it within her palm. "I think I lost one of my earrings." Chuck explained.

"Do you want me to help you look for it?" He asked, stepping closer to her.

"No, I'll be fine." She muttered, standing. "Why don't you go take the elevator and I'll meet you down there."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's getting pretty crowded anyway… better safe than sorry, right?" Chuck desperately hoped her smile looked convincing.

Apparently, it did. "Alright, but don't be _too_ long, okay? Or I'll have come back up here and look for you… and I don't think I could handle those lines again." He smiled softly at her before following along behind a bustling group of tourists toward the elevator.

Chuck waited until he was out of sight before rushing toward the window, unsurprised at what she found. A large, antique brass button lay perfectly in the center of the ledge. There was no doubt in Chuck's mind that it had been placed there intentionally. And she knew exactly who had done it.

How long had it been sitting there? Chuck's eyes scanned the sea of tourists hopefully, but she knew that it would be impossible to pick anyone out in such a large crowd. Still, it was confirmation of what she had been wondering since before they even arrived – he was _here!_ And he knew that she was, too…

But the rush of joy that suddenly began washing over her immediately began to vanish as a horrible realization entered Chuck's mind. If her father's message was true – if he really was here, waiting for her, then did that also mean…?

She let out a long slow breath as she stared down at the button, which now lay in her palm. Chuck hated lying, as a general rule… but lying to her husband was practically unbearable. Why hadn't she just told him the truth before they left? But it was too late now…

_I'm not going to say anything_, she decided. _Not until I know for sure…_ And with that, she carefully hid the button away in her purse and headed toward the crowded elevator.

As the doors slid shut behind her, Chuck could not shake the sneaking suspicion that their perfect Parisian vacation was already headed for disaster.

And unfortunately, as she so often was in these situations, Chuck was quite right.

_A/N: Again, sorry for self-indulging back there… but I thought it would be too funny to have Ned and Chuck get carried away like that in public Hahaha. Since this story is rated "T", we won't get any further insight into what sort of ways Ned was able to find to make Chuck go "dizzy"… but you can trust that they had some fun Hahaha!_

_I figured it was time I mentioned Chuck's "secret" again. This time we get a clearer picture of what it is… but, as you can see, we still don't get the WHOLE story of what's really going on… You've still gotta wait a little bit longer for that!_

_I like doing silly things every once in a while to check if people ever REALLY read my sometimes-lengthy (haha) author's notes… So here it is:_

_Here is a spoiler for what's coming up – the murder is in the next chapter! (See, told you things were about to start moving!) Just for fun, you guys can try to guess who the victim is going to be. I chose to a reallllly obvious route with this one, so hopefully it won't be too hard to figure out (especially because there are such limited options)!_

_If you get it right, you win a complementary cup-pie of your choice from the Pie Hole, to be delivered in the author's note at the end of the next chapter ;) Hahaha. So please be sure to specify your flavor in your review, if you choose to participate! _

_One last, REALLY off-topic thing before this A/N ends up longer than the chapter! If you have never seen "The Fall" starring Lee Pace, shame shame shame! Go watch it right now! It is one of the most beautiful and interesting films I've ever seen. _

_Okay, now we're finished here! Haha. Please review!_


	6. Chapter Four

_A/N: Wow, that was fast… another chapter already! (This story is going to end up being longer than I thought, so I really wanna keep it going so I don't spend half my life writing it haha)._

_I've noticed as I go on that each chapter I write keeps getting longer and longer, but I have no idea why. I'm hoping this pattern will stop soon so the chapters aren't 20 pages long by the end of it Hahaha._

_Oh, and if anyone is wondering, Dominique's last name, D'Aubigne, is pronounced "Doo-BEEN". :)_

_Please enjoy the chapter! And the results of my little "test" in the last A/N (which was, unfortunately, quite unsuccessful!) will be revealed at the end in my second Author's Note._

_**CHAPTER FOUR**_

It was exactly twenty-one hours and forty-three minutes later and the sun was, once again, beginning to set. After more than half an hour of driving, the taxi finally came to a halt in front of an enormous building on the outskirts of the city. Chuck paid the cab driver and gave him a bright smile. "Merci, monsieur." She peered at her husband in the rearview mirror as she spoke.

In the backseat, Ned stared intently into the semi-reflective surface of the window and began fiddling with his tie for what seemed to Chuck like the hundredth time. In fact, the pie maker had adjusted his tie exactly twenty-seven times in the fifty-four minutes that had passed since he first put it on.

"You look fine." Chuck assured him as she opened the car door and stepped out into the humid summer air.

Ned had barely even noticed that they were no longer moving. The driver eyed him impatiently over his shoulder until Ned finally gave up on his tie and hurriedly exited the cab, muttering an awkward apology that, of course, the French cab driver could not understand.

Chuck rolled her eyes as Ned finally came to stand beside her. "Look, you messed it up!" She sighed, pointing toward the extremely crooked tie around his neck. "Okay, don't move." She warned him.

Ned didn't need telling twice. He put his hands behind his back and kept his head very still, staring fixedly ahead. There was a soft tugging sensation around his neck for a few moments before Chuck finally stepped away from him, smiling. He relaxed instantly.

"Alright, I fixed it for you… now don't touch it!" She waved a finger playfully at him.

"Sorry, I'm just…"

"Nervous?" Chuck laughed. "Really? I couldn't tell…"

"I'm fine." Ned assured her, finally allowing himself to smile. He stared up at the gigantic convention center in awe. An enormous banner hung above the doorway, with bold red letters in English which read "Welcome to the First-Annual International Cooking Conference, hosted by Dominique D'Aubigne".

"Annual?" Ned read aloud, not even trying to conceal his excitement. "Does this mean we can come back next year?"

Chuck's smile widened when she saw the way that Ned's eyes lit up as he spoke. "Don't you think maybe we should worry about _this year_ first?"

"Right." Ned agreed, still feeling rather giddy. "Let's go!" And without any further hesitation, he led the way through the revolving glass doorway.

A very short and kind-looking woman was waiting in the brightly-lit lobby, smiling sweetly at them. "Are you here for the convention?" She asked as they approached, her accent instantly marking her as British.

Ned nodded, returning her smile.

"Welcome! I'm Abby Boulstridge, event coordinator." She turned, pointing down a long hallway on their right. "First door on the left… Enjoy!"

It was all Ned could do not to run down the hall. It seemed to take forever until they finally reached the beautiful oak double-doors.

"After you." Chuck smiled brightly at Ned as he excitedly pushed them open. What they found on the other side, was paradise (to the pie maker, at least).

It was more amazing that he could have dreamed. There were dozens upon dozens of tables lining the walls, filled with every type of food you could imagine from nearly any country you could name. Each tablecloth was emblazoned with a different national flag, creating a dazzling rainbow of color throughout the enormous hall. To the far left stood an empty stage (save a small podium and microphone) surrounded by hundreds of chairs. And it was packed with people.

"We have a kitchen in the hotel…" Ned muttered to himself as they walked by each table, staring in admiration at every dish they saw (and, in Chuck's case, occasionally grabbing a bite or two from the sample trays). "And we had plenty of time… I should have made something!"

"No, you shouldn't." Chuck replied, bowing politely to the kind Japanese chef as he handed her a skewer of _dango_. "Otherwise you'd have been fussing over your cooking instead of your tie and we'd still be back at the hotel!"

"Okay, maybe you're right." He admitted, sighing softly. "It probably wouldn't have stacked up to any of this stuff anyway… I mean, look at it!"

"_Taste _it!" Chuck offered him her half-finished Japanese pastry, but he shook his head. "What's wrong? You were all excited to come and all you've done is gawk at everything."

"I'm saving room." Ned smiled as he spoke.

"For what?"

"_That_."

They had finally reached the largest and most prominent display of the entire convention – the French table. It was covered with delectable-looking pastries and sweets that, in the pie maker's opinion, seemed much too ornate and beautiful to be eaten. He could literally feel his mouth water at the sight of it. Beside each tray of delicious desserts was a small white card with beautiful calligraphy that read "Hand-Prepared by Ms. Dominique D'Aubigne".

Ned could no longer contain himself and finally began perusing the rows of beautifully prepared pastries, searching for the best one to try. "I don't see her anywhere." He muttered, finally making a selection as his eyes scanned the crowd that surrounded them.

"She's probably waiting to make some sort of 'grand entrance' or something…" Chuck replied, also eyeing the pastries in amazement. "That's how these sorts of things always work, isn't it?"She turned toward Ned as she spoke, expecting a reply, but she wasn't even sure that he had heard her.

He hadn't. "This is amazing!" Ned cried, his mouth still partially full of fruit and dough. He had eaten the entire thing in one enormous bite. "You need to try one."

Chuck laughed softly, shaking her head at him as she picked up one of the tiny desserts. "What is it?" She asked.

"Blueberry-Lemon Tart." Ned replied dreamily.

Smiling at him, his wife took a small bite of the very sweet and (thanks to the lemon) slightly tangy dessert. "Wow… It's delicious," She agreed.

"Told you." Ned smiled in satisfaction.

"But…"

He eyed her suspiciously, his smile slightly fading. "But what?"

She shrugged innocently. "It's just that… it tastes exactly like your Blueberry-Lemon pie back home."

"Well, it _is _the same recipe." Ned admitted. In fact, with very few exceptions, all of the Pie Hole's recipes were taken directly from Dominique's extensive library of cookbooks. "But the crust is different." He argued. "And anything I make could never compare to this…"

Chuck took a second bite. "Actually…" She paused a moment, contemplating. "Yours is better." She decided.

Ned looked far from flattered by her comment. In fact, he looked positively scandalized. He nearly choked on his second helping of pastry. "How can you say that?!" He pointed to a second plate. "Try one of those."

Chuck could not help her amusement as she picked up a second, slightly larger dessert from the plate and took a bite.

Ned crossed his arms, watching her expectantly as she chewed. "Dominique's famous _Tarte Tatin._"

"Mmm… almost as good as that caramel apple pie you make every fall."

Ned sighed. "Chuck, I think you're being a little biased here. I mean, this woman has had decades of experience!"

"Yes, she has." Chuck agreed. "But I doubt she's as passionate about it as you are." She lowered her voice suddenly. "And I have a feeling she doesn't use magic fruit that she brought back to life."

"Do you really think that makes it taste better?" Ned asked seriously. He'd never really thought about it before. After all, there was no way he could ever test it out for himself.

Chuck nodded at him as she finished off the sugary apple tart.

"Well then it doesn't count." Ned insisted. "It's cheating."

"No it's not. Dominique clearly has a talent for baking, and so do you." She explained. "You just have another type of talent that she doesn't."

Her husband shook his head. "It's not a talent! It's a…" He struggled to come up with the right word.

"A gift?" Chuck tried. "Because that's the same thing."

"No, it's not." Ned sighed. "A talent is something you practice and enjoy and win blue ribbons for. A gift is when someone shoves something in your lap and says 'Here you go!' and you're stuck with it forever unless you throw it away or re-gift it which, unfortunately, was not an option for me."

"Don't forget – without your little 'gift', I wouldn't be standing here right now!" Chuck reminded him.

Ned closed his eyes sadly. "Yes, you would. Because then your dad never would have died, and you wouldn't have grown up as a shut-in and been so tempted to take that cruise to Tahiti. Trust me, you'd still be standing here," He assured her. "Just… not with me."

Chuck sighed. "But look – Here I am. _With you_." She smiled softly at him. "I can't believe I'm married to the most talented – I mean _gifted_ – pie maker in the entire world and he's too darn modest to admit it."

"I'd admit it if it were true." Ned countered.

Chuck opened her mouth to reply, but noticed that nearly everyone around them had suddenly begun rushing toward the far side of the room, near the stage. "Come on," She said. "They must be starting soon."

But then they heard the screams.

Ned could already feel the panic welling up inside him. "That can't be good." He whispered.

It wasn't.

"Help! Help!" Abby Boulstridge came rushing out of the back room, crying hysterically. "It's Dominique! She's… She's…"

XXX

"She's dead?" Vivian asked in disbelief.

Ned nodded as he stared blankly into the swirling cream of his half-drunk coffee.

"And, um… forgive me for prying, but… _How _did you say she died, again?" Lily leaned forward in her seat as she spoke.

Chuck glanced sideways at Ned, who clearly did not want to talk about it. "She was buried alive," She whispered softly. "In baking flour."

Unbeknownst to the attendees of the convention, Dominique D'Aubigne (aged sixty-four years, forty-four weeks, three days, one hour and seventeen minutes old at the time of her "accident") was planning on introducing the newest upgrade to the invention that helped carry her to fame – the _industrial- sized_ automatic flour-sifter. Unfortunately, mere minutes before its grand unveiling, Dominique's life was cut short by a bizarre and seemingly inexplicable malfunction in the mechanics.

"It was going to revolutionize the baking world." Ned muttered miserably, still not looking up from his coffee mug.

Chuck glanced at him helplessly. "Can someone give him a hug for me?" She asked, looking from one face to another.

"I'm on it!" Olive leapt up from her seat beside Chuck and wrapped her arms around the pie maker, who patted her back awkwardly.

On most occasions, Ned did not particularly enjoy being hugged, but he didn't mind… mostly because he had missed Olive very much.

After things between the ex-waitress and Randy Mann fell rather horribly apart, Olive herself had fallen as well… into a nasty rut. So two months and eleven days previously, when Lily and Vivian announced that they were leaving for a second 6-month world tour, Olive seized the opportunity. Her restaurant, The Intrepid Cow, had been left in the temporary care of Jerry Holmes and Buster Bustamante, who had finally been cleared of all charges and were more than happy to help. Confident that her "baby" was in good hands, Olive packed up and hit the road with the Darling Mermaid Darlings.

The true reason for her decision to accompany the synchronized swimming duo was a secret that only Olive knew. She had told everyone that all she was looking for was a mere change of scenery, when in fact, she was looking for something else entirely… or rather, some_one_. Each stop in a new destination brought the hope of that chance encounter she had been waiting for… an encounter with a travelling salesman who had managed to bottle, and sell, happiness. But Olive knew deep down that _her_ happiness would not be found within any of the tiny glass vials, but rather within the shy, socially-awkward, and innocently charming man who sold them.

"Thanks, Olive." Ned said weakly as his friend finally released him from her embrace and shuffled back to her seat.

Emerson cleared his throat softly, speaking for the first time. "So I'm sure you ladies understand why we can't make it to the show this afternoon."

He had, at first, been reluctant to leave behind Simone at her dog show just to watch Lily and Vivian's performance. But when Emerson learned of Dominique's death and that her family suspected foul play, he was suddenly much more eager to make the trip.

"Well, _I'll_ be there." Chuck corrected him. "But we're only here for a week, so Ned and Emerson have really got to get started… especially while the body's still at the morgue."

"Of course we understand." Vivian said sweetly.

"And if things go well, we'll try to catch the Friday show, if we can." Ned smiled softly. "Won't we, Emerson?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah! Yeah, of course. Front row." Emerson's smile was much less convincing.

Olive's eyes suddenly lit up, as a realization hit her. "Wait, wait… so you're going to the morgue? _Today?_"

Ned nodded.

"Oooh! Are you gonna…?" She wiggled her pointer finger at him.

He sighed softly, then reluctantly nodded again.

Olive practically leapt from her seat. "Can I come?! Can I come?!"

"No." Emerson, Ned, and Chuck replied in unison.

"Girl, what part of 'lifetime ban' don't you understand?" Emerson asked sharply.

It was almost painful to remember the first (and only) time Olive had ever accompanied them to the morgue exactly one year, eighteen weeks, two days, and four minutes ago. Having recently been let-in on the pie maker's secret, she had begged and pleaded and guilt-tripped her way to an invitation, much to Emerson's dismay.

Olive's promise to stand silently in the corner and observe had, of course, been quickly broken. The unfortunate victim (one Clint Koffer, aged twenty-six years, forty-eight weeks, three hours, and nine minutes old at the time of his death) had just enough time to sit up slowly, glance around the cold metal room, and ask "Where am I?" before a shrieking and hysterical Olive forcefully grabbed Ned's hand and smacked it rather unceremoniously across the man's face, ending his life for a second time.

Furious at all the extra time and effort she had cost him, Emerson officially proclaimed a lifetime ban on Olive, barring her from all future morgue visits.

"But I've told you a hundred times – you didn't warn me!" Olive insisted. "I didn't know it was gonna sit up and talk!"

Emerson raised an eyebrow at her. "What the Hell did you think it was gonna do?!"

"Alright, enough." Ned did not want things to escalate any further. "Olive, you can't come." He shrugged apologetically.

"But –"

"Will you give it a rest?" Lily shot Olive a look. "If he says you can't come… you can't come."

"That's right…" Vivian nodded in agreement. "Although…"

"Here we go…" Emerson rolled his eyes.

"Well, I do think it would be fascinating to see exactly _how_ Ned brought our Charlotte back to life." She continued.

"Y'know, I've gotta admit," Lily confessed, "I've always been pretty curious about that too…"

Chuck sighed. "Please don't do this."

"It's just innocent curiosity." Vivian smiled at her niece.

"But don't forget that curiosity killed the cat..." Ned interjected. "And while I realize that's just a metaphor, please realize that if there _was_ an actual dead cat involved, I would not touch it for your amusement." He added hastily. "Sorry."

"What if it was a rat?" Olive tried. "Or a bird? Remember Pidge? What if we found another bird, would you –?"

"Enough." Emerson pushed back his chair and stood as he spoke. "This ain't no spectator sport, people!" He glanced down at Ned, who was still seated beside him. "I think we should, uh… start headin' over soon anyway."

Ned nodded and stood quickly, immensely grateful to his friend… especially since he knew that they weren't actually planning on arriving at the morgue for another two or three hours. Chuck knew this as well, but did not protest. She couldn't blame him for wanting to leave so soon.

"Good luck today." Ned smiled weakly at Lily, Vivian, and Olive. "We'll try to stop by later on, if we can." He looked sadly at Chuck, his heart heavy with the knowledge that this was the first time they would be separated the entire trip. And it would not likely be the last.

"Love you." Chuck said softly, smiling at him.

"You too." He replied, trying to smile back. "Have fun at the show."

And with one last nod of the head to the others, Emerson and Ned were gone.

_A/N: Sorry to any Randy fans out there… but we ALL know that Olive and Alfredo were meant to be… and so does Olive! ;)_

_Be excited, people… the plot's finally moving along! (Although, admittedly, I do not have the story 100% concretely planned out at this point. We're nearing the part where there are two possible directions the story could go, and I'm still debating which one to follow… ahh! So stressful!_

_Oh, and before I forget…_

_I know I promised a "cup pie" to the winner of my little test, but since I only had one participant AND they were very correct, __**NedlovesChuck**__ gets a FULL cheesecake from the Pie Hole (with a yummy graham cracker crust, complete with Chuck's honey, of course!) As Dominique would say (if she were still alive) Bon Appetit! Hahaha._

_Please review, everyone! I love all my readers! :)_


	7. Chapter Five

_A/N: Thank you to all my readers!_

_Here it is… the chapter we've all been waiting for… we finally learn what the big deal was with Chuck's secret! :)_

_Note – I apologize in advance for my horrible attempts at writing a French accent "Fleur Delacour from Harry Potter" - style roflmao._

_Enjoy!_

_**CHAPTER FIVE**_

Ned shuffled his feet awkwardly as he and Emerson stood motionless in the entryway of the tiny morgue. It felt like they were waiting for something, but Ned couldn't figure out what. He glanced sideways at the P.I. "Um… How long are we planning on standing here?" He asked.

"As long as it takes for me to figure out what I'm gonna say." Emerson responded through his teeth.

"Well, why don't we just tell them that the D'Aubigne family hired us to investigate Dominique's murder? …D_eath_, I mean." Ned didn't want to be too hasty with his assumptions.

"Yeah," Emerson gave him a fake, cheery smile. "Which would be easy as pie… If I could speak a word of French!"

"Pie's not easy." Ned replied, his tone slightly defensive. "And… '_Oh_'." He added. To be honest, he hadn't even thought about that little obstacle until Emerson brought it up.

"What about you?" His friend asked. "You take any French lessons back in the day?"

"Je ne parle pas Francais." Ned replied, horribly butchering the pronunciation. "Chuck taught me that." He explained. "It's slightly less embarrassing than nodding stupidly and giving blank stares to anyone who talks to me."

Emerson sighed. "Wish I'd thought of it sooner… I would've invited Corpse Bride to come along and translate."

Ned shook his head. "She came all this way just to see Lily and Vivian." He glanced at his watch, realizing that, on the other side of the city, the show was already underway. "I couldn't do that to her." He said simply.

"Alright, well we can't just stand here forever." Emerson straightened his tie. "We'll wing it – Let's go."

They quickly discovered that "winging it" was more difficult than Emerson had anticipated.

"We – Are – In—Ves – Ti – Ga – Tors!" He shouted in the coroner's face for the third time. The man stared back blankly and said nothing. "Help me." Emerson muttered harshly to his companion.

"Um… We." Ned pointed to himself and the man beside him. "Investigate." He mimed looking through a magnifying glass. "Murders." He made a horrific gagging sound and closed his eyes, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

The coroner looked from Ned to Emerson and back again. He nodded once.

"Does that mean he understands?" Ned asked out of the corner of his mouth.

Emerson rolled his eyes impatiently. "How the Hell am I supposed to know? …Keep goin'!"

"Right. Um… Dominique D'Aubigne?" The pie maker mimed using a rolling pin and stirring a spoon, then pointed toward the door that lead to where the bodies were held. "We'd like to talk" He pointed toward his mouth. "To her." He pointed back toward the door, eyeing the man hopefully.

Emerson cleared his throat very loudly.

"_Look._ Look!" Ned frantically pointed toward his eyes. "We'd like to LOOK at her… Her body, I mean." He pointed toward the door yet again and smiled nervously.

The coroner looked them up and down for a long time, making Ned extremely uncomfortable. After what felt like hours, he finally nodded yet again.

Ned let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you… I mean, _Merci._" He corrected himself hurriedly.

Emerson nodded politely toward the coroner. "Come on." He muttered to Ned, his smile instantly vanishing. "Let's get this over with."

"Um, actually…" Ned hesitated a moment. "I was actually kind of hoping I could do this one alone…" He shrugged, smiling sheepishly.

Emerson did not return the gesture. "No _way_ that's gonna happen. Last time I let you go in alone with a body, you came out with Dead Girl!"

"You make that sound like it's a bad thing."

"Well it was at the time!"

"Look… I promise, I just want a chance to talk to her alone. Nothing else is going to happen." Ned assured him.

Emerson knew the pie maker well enough to recognize that he was being sincere. He seemed to be teetering for a moment, and Ned started to worry until he saw Emerson begin to slip and, finally, give in. "Ohhhhh fine. Go ahead." He sighed heavily, waving a hand toward the door. "But make it quick." Emerson's voice dropped to a whisper. "This guy's even creepier than the one back home… It's making me nervous."

Ned shook his head, amused as he headed for the door. "I'll be back in a minute." He said.

The threat in Emerson's voice was unmistakable. "Yeah, you'd better be."

XXX

"You were magnificent!" Chuck cried happily as she burst through the dressing room door and raced forward to embrace her still-wet mother and aunt. "I think it was one of the best routines you've ever done!" It had been so long since she'd seen them perform that Chuck had almost forgotten just how much she loved it.

"Thank you, sweetheart." Lily smiled widely at her daughter. They had not been expecting to see Chuck until after the show, but she had somehow managed to sneak her way into the dressing room just at the start of the intermission.

"Just wait until you see the finale!" Vivian said excitedly. "Believe it or not, Olive helped us with the choreography… who knew she had such talent!"

The petite blonde smiled proudly from the dressing room's couch.

"Yeah," Lily agreed, "It's a shame… maybe if she had a bit more grace than an elephant trying to roller-skate, we could let her be part of the show."

Olive stood, crossing her arms. "Now, to be fair, have you ever actually _seen_ an elephant roller-skate? Do you actually have any basis for that claim? 'Cause if you don't, then that insult is completely invalid and has no effect on me." She said firmly.

Chuck couldn't help but laugh. "Good point, Olive." She agreed.

Vivian suddenly smiled at her niece. "You haven't heard from Ned, have you?" She asked her hopefully. "He and Emerson must have finished up at the morgue by now… maybe they'll surprise us and make it for the second half!"

Chuck bit her lip and glanced up at the clock on the wall. She alone knew that Emerson and Ned had most likely just arrived at the morgue a few minutes ago."I haven't." She answered truthfully. "But they're both really sorry they can't be here… well, Ned is, at least." Chuck corrected herself. "I'm sure they're just busy with the case." She assured her.

"Well you just be sure to tell that husband of yours that he missed the show of a lifetime." Lily laughed.

Chuck smiled back at her. "Don't worry, I will." She glanced at the clock a second time. "I should probably head back to my seat and let you two go change… break a leg out there!" She gave each of them one more quick hug before finally scurrying out the door and making her way back toward the sold-out seats.

Though Chuck was overjoyed for Lily and Vivian and was, of course, thrilled to be seeing them perform, she could not help the sadness she felt when she gazed out into the stands and saw not only her seat, but the one beside it empty. The weight of her secret already made her feel isolated and distant from the pie maker. So being _actually_ isolated from him was, consequently, that much worse.

When she got closer, Chuck was surprised to discover that _her _seat, at least, was _not_ empty. There was a single sheet of paper, folded neatly in half, waiting for her. She could feel her heart begin to race as she picked it up and saw a single sentence, written in very familiar handwriting. _Look to your left_.

Chuck peered out over the crowd, searching, until she finally spotted him – on the other side of the pool, just beside the back doorway, stood a man dressed all in black. He beckoned her to him, his smile just barely visible beneath several layers of bandages. Chuck recognized him immediately.

"Dad…"

XXX

Ever since his teenage years, Ned had spent countless hours envisioning the perfect meeting with Dominique D'Aubigne. He had created dozens of different scenarios, planning out exactly where it would be, what he would say, and even what he would wear. His eyes scanned the dimly-lit metal room, glanced down at his boring black t-shirt and jeans, and finally came to rest on the still, lifeless body that lay in front of him. The pie maker was fairly certain that even in his wildest imaginings, it was never _quite _like this.

_I can't just stand here forever_, he told himself. If he waited much longer, surely Emerson would burst into the room in a panic and ruin the meeting that he had been looking forward to for more than half his life. With one last deep breath, Ned set his watch, lifted his finger, and touched her.

Dominique's eyes fluttered open instantly, taking in the room around her. Ned noted that, rather than appearing scared or confused, as most victims usually did, she simply looked annoyed. She muttered something under her breath in French, and several small puffs of white powder escaped her lips with each word.

"Uh… Hello! Ms. D'Aubigne?" Ned began nervously. "Wow, I really wish I could shake your hand or something…"

She peered intently at him as he spoke. "Oh. Eetz you again." She muttered, her English heavily accented, but intelligible.

"Huh? No, no… we've never met." He smiled. "I just wanted to tell you that you're my inspiration. I mean, I've dreamed of being just like you ever since I was a kid and I saw your cooking show for the first time… the American one. 'Sweet Treats with Dominique'? Y'know, I always thought it was funny how the title never really rhymed…" Ned glanced down at his watch, realizing he was already wasting precious time.

"Um, I actually graduated from one of your schools about ten years ago…" He continued, speaking faster and faster with each word. "I even own my own bakery now… well, restaurant-slash-bakery, really. Anyway, the point is that after all these years, I'm finally living out my dream, and it's all because of you. So, uh… I guess what I'm trying to say is… thanks." He ended lamely.

Dominique still looked rather annoyed, but her expression had softened ever-so-slightly. "Well zank _you_." She replied. "Eetz nice to know zat zere are zome young people out zere who truly appreziate zee culinary arts."

Ned coughed sharply, having inadvertently inhaled some of the copious amount flour that now filled the air. He waved the puffs of white powder out of his face and looked at his watch yet again. Nearly half their time was already gone.

"Ms. D'Aubigne," He said suddenly, his voice frantic. "We really don't have a lot of time, so if you know anything about what caused your accident… or murder… Do you think it could have been a murder?" He asked. "Anything you could tell me would help."

The woman rolled her eyes at him. "Eez zis zee Spanish Inqueezition or zomezing? I 'ave already told you people, eet waz no accident. I do not weesh to discuss eet again. Ask zee ozzer ones."

Ned's eyes widened. "Ozzer –er, _other_ ones? Y-you mean someone already woke you up? _After_ you were dead?"

She nodded "Oui."

The pie maker's face suddenly went several shades paler – and it wasn't because of the flour.

XXX

"I still can't believe it's you!" Chuck smiled, laying her head on her father's shoulder. They were huddled together in the narrow alleyway behind the large swimming arena, sitting on a large wooden crate (which, according to its label, once held bottles of chlorine). It was a little cramped and rather dirty, but Chuck didn't care – she finally had her father back… again.

"I know, Button." Charles Charles squeezed his daughter gently. "Me neither." He sighed. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to write more." He said softly.

"Eight postcards in two years… That's not much." Chuck admitted. "And you never gave me a return address…"

"I feel terrible about that, honey. I've just been moving around so much, I never knew where I was gonna be next," Her father explained. "But let me tell you, it was awful, never being sure whether you were getting them or not… I mean, let's face it – your life's in constant danger. For all I knew, you could have been –"

"But I'm not." Chuck cut him off before he could finish the thought. She could tell by the tone of his voice exactly what he meant. "I'm fine." She said, a bit softer this time.

Chuck should have known that it wouldn't take long for the conversation to take that turn. But she wasn't ready to argue with her father about her relationship with the pie maker. Not yet. She unconsciously moved her left hand off of her lap and out of sight beside her, grateful that he had not yet noticed the one-and-a-half carat diamond that sparkled there.

"Well," Her father continued, deciding, for the time being, to not press the issue. "What matters is that you're here now." Charles smiled at her.

His daughter said nothing for a few moments, hesitating. There was a burning question on the tip of her tongue, just begging to be asked. A part of her feared ruining this perfect reunion with her father… but ultimately, her own curiosity and worry won out.

"Daddy?" Chuck asked softly, sitting up and reaching into her purse. "I wanted to ask you something… about your letter…" She slowly pulled the crumpled and folded postcard from her bag and glanced down at the now-fading words that she had read and re-read so many times.

_Hey, Button!_

_Guess where I am right now. That's right – My favorite city in the world! Wish you could be here to see it with me. I miss you so much. Y'know, I hear the Darling Mermaid Darlings are having a show here next month. That'd sure be something to see, wouldn't it…?_

_What do you say, Button? Up for finally having an adventure with your Old Man? I ran into an old friend I think you'd be interested to meet. We all know ol' Deadly Nedly learned to cook from his mom. But did you ever wonder where his other "talent" came from?_

_Hope to see you soon. Wasn't 20 years long enough the first time?_

_Love you,_

_Dad_

XXX

Ned continued staring at Dominique in stunned silence for several more moments until he realized he was running out of time. Could there really be someone else out there, just like him? The thought was too good to be true.

"Can you tell me anything about them?" He asked hurriedly. Dominique had barely fifteen seconds of life remaining.

"Well… Zere were two of zem… a very strange one weeth zomezing covering heez face. Bandages, I zeenk." She paused. "And zee ozzer one… I thought you were 'im. You look almost zee zame. But 'e waz older..." Dominique finally gave him a genuine smile for the first time. "And 'e wazzn't as tall, of course… or as handsome. 'E almost looked like 'e could be your –"

Ned pulled his finger away sharply and stared in horror at the woman's once-again lifeless body, finding himself unable to breathe and feeling as though his heart, too, had stopped beating.

XXX

Chuck stared at her father expectantly, anxiously awaiting some sort of reply._ Please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong_ She thought frantically, trying to come up with some other explanation for her father's cryptic message.

Charles appeared to be planning his words carefully as he gazed into his daughter's eyes. Finally, he took a deep breath. "About that… Honey, you won't believe –"

"Well, well, well… if it isn't little Charlotte!" A figure had suddenly appeared at the mouth of the alleyway, almost entirely hidden in shadow.

Chuck's eyes snapped upward toward the source of the voice – one that she hadn't heard in more than twenty years. _Oh God…_

"Or do you go by 'Chuck' now?" The man continued. "My boy still calls you that, doesn't he?" He laughed softly to himself as he spoke.

Chuck sighed miserably as her worst fears suddenly came true. _Ned is going to __kill__ me…_

_A/N: Cue the very dramatic, cliff hanger-y "dun-dun-dun-dah-dah-dah-dum-dum-dum-DUM!" Pushing Daisies music. Hahahaha._

_Advance warning – we are getting close to the part of the story where I really don't have it planned from there on… so it's anyone's guess (including my own) how exactly things are going to turn out! I have a couple of different routes it could take, and I'm toying with several ideas at the moment… we shall see!_

_Thank you for reading, and please review! :)_


	8. Interlude 2

_A/N: Ah, my lovely readers/reviewers… I love you guys! Every time I read what you write, it literally makes my day! My friends always tell me writing fanfiction is "useless" and "pointless" (since it can never be published or anything, for obvious reasons) but I see it as a great way to practice your writing style/technique and get helpful feedback… which is what you guys give me every time! :) It's what keeps me goin'!_

_Time for another interlude chapter! I feel like this one is a nice balance of little Ned and Chuck cuteness and some serious insight into Ned's daddy issues Hahahaha. _

_**INTERLUDE TWO**_

_ The sun shone brightly in the blue February sky, casting a beautiful glow over the blankets of glittering snow that layered the ground below. Charlotte "Chuck" Charles smiled to herself as she skipped happily off her front porch, relishing in the delightful crunching sound her boots made with every step._

_ It had been thirty-nine weeks, two days, three hours, and forty-two minutes since she first made this same journey to the house across the street. The quiet and mysterious young boy who lived there had long since vanished – now he was just plain Ned, Chuck's very best friend and, as her eight-year-old self had already decided, the love of her life._

_ Her eyes scanned the large front lawn hopefully, searching for some sign of her friend, but he was nowhere to be found. So young Chuck instead hopped up the steps toward the front door and rang the bell. It was a few moments before Ned's smiling mother finally answered._

_ "Why hello, Charlotte!" She said brightly. "You're here early, sweetie."_

_ "I know." Chuck replied, returning her smile. "I was gonna see if Ned wanted to play for a while before we go." She explained. "Thanks for inviting me, by the way." The little girl added hastily, suddenly remembering her manners._

_ "Not at all, dear. I know how much the two of you have been looking forward to this… So what better way to celebrate?" The woman's smile widened as she stepped back and allowed Chuck to enter. "He's up in his room." She said as she began heading back to the kitchen where, if Chuck's nose was not deceiving her, there was a particularly delicious-smelling cherry pie waiting in the oven._

_ "Thank you!"_

_Chuck shook the snow off her boots before removing them hastily, placing them beside the front door with her jacket and hat. Finally free from her layers of heavy winter clothing, Chuck could no longer contain herself. She bounded toward the staircase and raced to the second floor, halting quite suddenly as she reached the end of the hall and found Ned's bedroom door already slightly ajar._

_She abruptly switched to a soft tiptoe and slipped soundlessly through the doorway, grateful that her socks made no sound on the glossy hardwood floor. Her friend sat across the room on his bed, his back facing her. Digby, who lay curled on the floor beside his master's bed, looked up at Chuck curiously as she entered._

"_Shhh…" She pressed a finger to her lips and winked playfully at her furry friend as she crept closer and closer. _One… _Chuck counted to herself. T_wo… Three…

"_Happy Birthday!" She shouted as loud as she could, leaping onto the bed and tackling Ned roughly, pushing him sideways onto the pillows and pinning him there. _

_Chuck burst into a fit of giggles as she pulled herself off of him, fighting to catch her breath. "I gotcha!" She exclaimed proudly._

_Ned did not reply; he hadn't even screamed or cried out when she pounced on him. He simply remained laying against the pillow where he had fallen, staring up at the ceiling._

"_What's wrong?" Chuck asked, her smile instantly fading. "You're not laughing."_

_In fact, upon closer examination, she noticed two identical trails of moisture glistening on Ned's cheeks. "Oh gosh…" Chuck bit her lip, unsure of what to say; it was the first time she'd ever seen him cry. In fact, she was fairly certain she'd never seen __any__ boy cry before… not in real life, anyway._

"_I'm sorry." She said softly."Did… did I hit you too hard or something?"_

_ Ned shook his head slowly. "It's not you." He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving the ceiling. _

_Chuck hesitated a moment before speaking again. "Well… do you wanna talk about it?"_

_Ned finally sat up, looking at her for the first time. "It's my dad." He said simply._

_His friend understood immediately. "Oh." Chuck replied softly. "So he's not coming." It wasn't a question – the look on Ned's face had already confirmed it._

_Though Chuck had lived across the street for nearly a year, she could count the number of times that she had actually come face-to-face with Ned's father on just one hand. To count the number of times Ned had appeared at her doorstep, lonely and seeking company after his father failed to follow through on a promise, she would need __both__ of her hands, and one of Ned's._

"_He's never missed my birthday before." The boy muttered softly, absent-mindedly playing with the corner of his cowboy comforter. "But it's been like this for a while." He admitted. "Even before you moved here."_

"_Really?" Chuck asked, intrigued. Ned had never discussed his father with her before… not like this. _

_Ned nodded sadly. "Dad doesn't even live with us anymore." He explained. "Not really."_

_This much Chuck had already figured out for herself. She hardly ever saw his father's car sitting in the driveway, and wasn't even sure if she'd __ever__ seen it parked overnight. But she'd always been too afraid to ask why. Until now._

"_What happened?" She whispered. _

_He shrugged. "I think he's friends with another lady, and my mom doesn't like it… he took her to the fair, and it made my mom really mad."_

"_Which fair?" Chuck asked, confused. "Like… the Hebrew Feta Fete? I went there with my aunts one time." She tried. _

_ "I dunno." Ned replied. "But they kept talking about 'a fair' and some lady. They got in a really big fight about it one time, and my dad left." He sighed. "I think he's living with… __her__." He added, and Chuck noticed a sort of bitterness in his voice that she'd never heard before. "But my mom doesn't like to talk about it, so I'm not really sure." The boy shrugged his shoulders, lapsing into silence._

_ Neither of them spoke for several moments, each lost in their own thoughts. "That's what happened to me, too." Chuck said softly. "My dad and my Aunt Lily got into a really bad fight… and then we moved away."_

_ "What was it about?" Ned asked._

_ Chuck thought for a moment, trying to remember the night she had eavesdropped on her father and aunt's feud. "I'm not sure." She admitted. "I didn't hear a lot, but it sounded like my dad had something my Aunt Lily wanted, but he didn't wanna share… I know it's not the same, but I used to see my aunts all the time. It's different now… they don't really come to visit anymore." Chuck smiled sadly at him. "So… I kinda understand."_

_ For a moment, as she thought about the aunts she missed so terribly, Chuck felt as though she, too, were about to cry. Ned saw this and, after a brief hesitation, awkwardly put one of his arms around her. "I'm sorry I started talking about it." He muttered softly. "I didn't wanna make you sad, too."_

_ Chuck turned to face him, shaking her head. "Neither of us should be sad." She said seriously. "It's your birthday!" Her usual smile finally returned to her lips. "Here… this'll make you feel better!" She reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of construction paper. "I made it just for you."_

_ Ned opened it carefully to find a painstakingly detailed crayon drawing of a giant green monster, breathing fire and stomping buildings, standing beside a huge red beast with wings, which appeared to be preparing to bite the head off of a screaming little man, held tightly in its clawed hand. _

_ "It's Chuckzilla and Ned Kong destroying the tri-state area." She explained._

_ Chuck finally got the reaction she'd been waiting for. Ned burst into joyous laughter as he carefully examined each detail of the picture. "It's perfect!" He cried happily._

_ "I thought it would make you extra-excited for the movie." Chuck smiled. _

_ While most children would have chosen to see an animated or family film to celebrate their birthday, Ned had instead begged and pleaded for his mother to take him and Chuck to the re-release of "Mothra", which they had been anxiously awaiting for weeks._

_ "I bet we'll learn tons of new ways to take-over Play Dough Village!" Ned grinned at her and, for a moment, all thoughts of his father fled his mind._

_ "We have some time before the movie… let's practice!" Chuck leapt from her spot beside him and stood on Ned's bed, towering over him. "It is I, Chuckzilla!" She proclaimed. "I have come from the planet Charlania to claim this land –"_

_ "Not so fast!" Ned, too, jumped up from his seat, letting out a roar. "This land belongs to me… the great Ned Kong!"_

_ It was the first birthday his father had ever missed… but Ned would always remember it as the happiest of his entire life. Years later, he would think of days like this, telling himself that he didn't need his father in his life to be happy… that he could do just fine without him._

_ But what Ned so often tried to forget was that, hours later, when the movie was over, his birthday pie was eaten, and Chuck had returned home, he had lain awake the entire night, staring at the ceiling with just one thought on his mind. It was the first sleepless night that he had spent thinking about his father._

_And it would certainly not be the last._

_A/N: Hopefully you enjoyed! I kind of struggled with this chapter, and I second-guessed and re-wrote a LOT of it… and, in the end, it still doesn't feel 100% right to me, but I really just wanted to post it and be done haha!_

_Stay tuned for the next "real" chapter where the drama continues to unfold haha._

_Please review! You guys are awesome :)_


	9. Chapter Six

_A/N: I am SO sorry! Please forgive me for not updating in about 20 years! Hahaha. You guys really can't imagine how crazy and busy things have been for me – coming all the way home after a semester abroad isn't easy… so much packing and unpacking, family and friends to catch up with, stuff to sort out with my work and my school (not to mention celebrating my 21__st__ birthday last week hahaha)._

_PLEASE READ THIS EXPLANATION!__ (thanks!)_

_Now that I have your attention (hahaha)… This chapter was meant to be about twice as long as it is, but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting any longer! That's why it's so short compared to all my other chapters. I had finished all the way up to the "XXX" chapter break literally about a month ago, but I knew it wasn't done. _

_I wrote the last few paragraphs of this chapter literally about 10 minutes before I'm posting this… so they might be total crap haha. I just wanted to add a little bit of Chuck to the chapter before I ended it.(The original plan was for the conversation that begins at the end of this chapter to actually play-out all the way through to the end, but that obviously didn't happen!)._

_Again, I apologize for the long wait and the short chapter! I swear you won't have to wait this long again!_

_**CHAPTER SIX**_

"Took you long enough." Emerson grumbled as the heavy stainless steel door finally swung open. He practically leapt from his seat in the uncomfortable folding chair beside the still-silent coroner's desk. "I was just about ready to –" His words were cut-short at the sight of the pie maker's face. "Hey… what's the matter?" He asked as an extremely pale Ned strolled by him without speaking.

"Damn it," Emerson called, hurrying to catch up with Ned, who was already standing out on the sidewalk in the bright August sun. "What is your problem?" He asked harshly. "You look like you seen a ghost or something – and don't get cute, you know what I meant."

Ned was quite literally unable to speak, so he said nothing as he continued struggling to remember how to breathe.

Emerson's eyes suddenly widened as a horrible thought entered his mind. "She better be dead back there." He practically hissed, his eyes quickly scanning the sidewalk for any poor soul who may have dropped-dead in Dominique's D'Aubigne's place.

"She is." Ned replied in almost a whisper, suddenly finding his voice.

The P.I. breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, good." His gaze returned to his friend's face. "So what's the matter then?" Emerson's eyes narrowed. "Do I need to remind you that I've got a business to run? Do _not_ tell me you wasted my minute being all cute and goin' on about 'dreams' and 'inspirations'" He batted his eyelashes mockingly as he spoke.

"Only half of it." Ned murmured, his eyes staring off into the distance and his mind clearly elsewhere.

Emerson was already growing tired of this bizarre behavior. He sighed heavily in exasperation. "Well then what did she say?" He demanded. "Was she murdered?"

Ned did not immediately respond. "She seemed to think so, but, uh…" He swallowed nervously. "She said she didn't wanna talk about it… again."

"_Again_?"

He nodded. "Looks like someone else beat us here. Heh." A faint trace of what was supposed to be a smile came to his lips, but vanished almost instantly. Ned finally glanced at Emerson for the first time, awaiting his reaction.

He appeared to be, momentarily, at a loss for words. "So you're telling me someone else already came here and woke the poor bitch up?"

Ned nodded yet again.

Emerson did not look pleased. "Boy, your market value just went _way_ down."

This was not the response the pie maker had been expecting. "What?"

"Well, here I was, thinking my little secret weapon was 'one of a kind' or 'special' or something… and it turns out you just a dime a dozen like everyone else." He shook his head sadly.

"Um…. I wouldn't say 'dime a dozen'… I'm thinking it's more like a two-for-one special." Ned replied nervously and, with a shaky deep breath, he repeated to Emerson exactly what Dominique had told him.

It was a few moments before Emerson finally spoke. "Well _damn_." He muttered. "You never told me your daddy was a freak too."

"I didn't know!" Ned cried. "I mean… I still don't know." He corrected himself hurriedly. "I can't just jump to any conclusions, right?" He finally forced a smile, fighting to keep his voice casual. "I mean, there are plenty of burn victims or plastic surgery patients out there who need to cover their faces… so that could have been anyone. And lots of people believe that everyone in the world's supposed to have a doppelganger."

"A doppel-_who_?"

"Doppelganger… it means a person who looks just like you." Ned explained. "So… apparently my look-alike enjoys the company of horribly disfigured and/or extremely vain people… Yay!" He said unenthusiastically.

Emerson wasn't buying it. "So you _really _think there just happens to be a guy out there who looks just like you, can also wake dead people, and hangs around with some guy covered in bandages?"

"Um… yes?" Ned tried yet again to smile, but failed miserably.

"Mmm-hmm…" Emerson took a step closer to him. "And of _all _the places in the entire world, this, uh… _interesting_ little pair just happens to show up in Paris the _exact _same time as you_ and_ visit the morgue on the _exact _same day?"

"Now that's not fair!" Ned replied defensively. "No one knew I was planning this trip!"

"But it wasn't _you _doing the planning now, was it?"

He shook his head in disbelief, immediately understanding what Emerson was implying. "Don't be ridiculous. Chuck hasn't heard from her dad in _ages_, and we only just decided to come here at the very last minute…" He explained. "Y'know, we actually knew about this show for more than two weeks before Chuck decided that…we…should…go…" Ned's voice trailed off as his mind went back in time to seven weeks, two days, fourteen hours and thirty-three minutes before.

Chuck had just gotten off the phone with her mother and was practically jumping up and down with excitement. "They're going to _Paris!_" She'd told him excitedly over breakfast one morning. "Oh, wouldn't that be incredible?"

He and Chuck had briefly discussed the possibility of meeting-up with Lily and Vivian at their performance in the famous "City of Love" and finally celebrating their long-awaited honeymoon. But, in the end, they had mutually decided that it was too short of notice to plan such an elaborate vacation with no one to care for Digby or look after the Pie Hole and no passport or travel documents for the supposedly dead and, therefore, non-existent Chuck.

"I'll take you there someday." Ned had promised her. "Just… not this time."

Chuck had grudgingly agreed that it was simply not meant to be, and did not press the issue. In fact, she did not mention Paris once for the next two weeks, three days, twenty-two hours and six minutes.

All the pieces suddenly began falling together. "She went down one morning to get the mail. Like she always does…" Ned mumbled to himself. "But then she acted so weird the whole rest of the day… She hardly said a word to me until that night, when she…"

"Suddenly changed her mind about taking that honeymoon?" Emerson tried. "Some coincidence, huh?"

Ned's mouth suddenly felt very dry. Hadn't Chuck's father been communicating to her through letters? And it had been such a long time since the last one… "She would have told me." He said firmly. "I would have understood if she wanted to see her dad again, she knows that."

Emerson simply shrugged. "Well maybe it wasn't _her _daddy she was so worried about."

Ned felt very much like he was going to vomit. He took a deep breath and steadied himself. "I need to talk to Chuck."

XXX

The second hand seemed to be moving at a snail's pace as Chuck stared intently at the tiny silver watch face on her wrist. She sat on the edge of the bed and tapped her foot anxiously, glancing at the door every few moments. _Where is he?_ She wondered desperately.

It was all a mistake, Chuck had decided. Lying to her husband like this… was it really worth it just to see her father again? She still wasn't sure… Especially after finally coming face-to-face with Ned's father that afternoon. That was why she had decided that it had gone on long enough – she needed to tell him the truth.

Chuck's state of panic was slowly increasing as she once again began to wonder what could possibly be taking him so long. But before the thought even had the chance to fully form within her mind, the soft creaking of the opening door reached her ears. She practically leapt up from the bed.

"Ned," Chuck began speaking before her husband had even stepped foot inside the room. "We need to talk."

Ned stood motionless in the doorway. The look on Chuck's face said it all – Emerson's suspicion had been correct. His wife had lied to him, gone behind his back, and betrayed him worse than she ever had.

"Yeah." He said softly, his face stony and expressionless. "I think we do."

_A/N:_ _One more time: sorry for the short chap (and kind of crappy ending). You won't have to wait a month and a half for the next chapter, I promise haha. Thanks guys! Please review!_


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